


I can see you staring, honey (like he's just my understudy)

by brittandsanforever



Series: Brittana: the scenes that could’ve been [2]
Category: Brittana - Fandom, Glee
Genre: Angst, F/F, Rachel knows about Brittana, Valentine’s Day, brittana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26886505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittandsanforever/pseuds/brittandsanforever
Summary: They were supposed to be together by Valentine's Day. Takes place during Silly Love Songs (2x12).
Relationships: Santana Lopez & Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce, minor Artie Abrams/Brittany S. Pierce
Series: Brittana: the scenes that could’ve been [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936897
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	I can see you staring, honey (like he's just my understudy)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is lyrics from Taylor Swift's exile (feat. Bon Iver).

“Hey, Britt-Britt,” Santana said in a particularly cheerful tone, black backpack hanging off her shoulder as she leaned nervously against the locker next to Brittany’s. Santana was _never_ nervous, not around anyone, and especially not around her best friend. But what she was about to ask had the potential to change _everything_ , and her heart was nearly beating out of her chest. The blonde finished scribbling something on a pink sticky note inside her locker, her ears perking up as she heard Santana’s voice.

“Santana, hi! Happy Valentine’s Day!” Brittany exclaimed, turning to face her as she shut the locker. Brittany was dressed head-to-toe in pink, with knee-high socks that said _LOVE_ in big red letters. Her hair was down in a messy side ponytail and she was wearing one of her ridiculous hats, but Santana thought she never looked more beautiful. 

“Yeah, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I was thinking….would you wanna go to Breadstix with me tonight? The Warblers are performing, and I ran into Kurt and Blaine at the Lima Bean earlier and they told me we could pick _any_ song we want and they’ll sing it. We could also make fun of their God-awful blazers. I have something planned for afterwards, too,” Santana proposed, suddenly not able to meet Brittany’s gaze as her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and her eyes shifted quickly to the floor.

“I’d love to, it’s just….I already have plans for tonight. With Artie. You know….cause he’s my boyfriend, and it’s Valentine’s Day. We’re actually going to Breadstix, if you want to come with us,” Brittany answered, stepping closer to the Latina in an attempt to soften the blow of the rejection. The vulnerable, sheepish look on Santana’s face quickly turned into anger as her brow furrowed and her eyes went dark. _Boyfriend_. She knew that’s what Artie was, but hearing Brittany say it was like a dagger to the chest. 

“You’re _actually_ asking me if I want to third-wheel with you and Cripples the Clown on Valentine’s Day? Because I’d rather go on a date with _Jewfro_ and spend the entire night _gouging my eyeballs out_ ,” she spat, her words like venom, and she could visibly see the hurt on Brittany’s face.

“Santana….please don’t be like that,” Brittany pleaded, reaching out to grab Santana’s arm, but the Latina yanked it away spitefully like Brittany suddenly had some horrible disease she didn’t want to catch. The blonde winced. “A lot of the Glee club’s going: Sam and Quinn, Mike and Tina, Puck and that girl from the wrestling team whose name I can never remember. She reminds me of what Lord Tubbington would look like in human form, oh and if he was a girl.”

“Those are all _couples,_ Britt _._ I have _no one,”_ Santana said bitterly, thinking to herself _I could’ve had you. But I blew it. It’s too late. I was too late. You’re with Artie, and you actually like him _.__

“Please, just think about it, San. Nobody should be alone on Valentine’s Day, and you know I’m always here for you.”

 _Not in the way I want you to be, not in the way you’re supposed to be. It wasn’t supposed to be like this,_ Santana thought. 

Santana’s eyes softened for just a moment as Brittany looked at her in the way that only Brittany ever did, but then the Latina’s gaze turned icy. “Forget it, forget I said anything, okay? Go have your fun with Stubbles McCripplePants.”

Santana felt like she was going to throw up. She walked away calmly but then sprinted towards the bathrooms as soon as she saw that Brittany was gone from the hallway. Tears flowed wildly down her face before she could even cram herself into a stall.

She threw her backpack onto the floor and unzipped it, grabbing the bouquet of roses she’d bought earlier and tossed them angrily into the toilet. She stood over them, fists clenched as stray tears rolled down her cheeks and plopped into the bowl. She flushed the flowers without hesitation, feeling like someone had just punched her in the stomach as she watched the red petals disappear. 

Her body then just sort of collapsed and she was now sitting on the bathroom floor, knees pressed against her chest, feeling like she was probably the _stupidest_ , most _pathetic_ person on the planet. She had everything planned. The flowers, the date at Breadstix and the song she picked out for the Warblers to sing (it was a _Beatles_ song, God when did she turn into such a sap) and paying for Brittany’s shrimp cocktail, and then taking Brittany back to her house where she would _finally_ tell her how she felt. 

But it was all ruined now.

“Santana? _Santana_ , is that you in there?” a loud, obnoxious voice asked from outside her stall, and she immediately knew who it was coming from. 

“What do you want, Berry?” she answered in an annoyed tone, hoping the brunette would just go away. 

“Well, I saw you practically race to the ladies room and I know from experience that means one of two things: either you really had to…. _go_ , or you came in here for a good crying session. And so I followed you in here, and the first thing I hear is sniffling coming from your stall,” Rachel stated matter-of-factly. 

“Well congrats, dwarf, you caught me! You were right, I’m having a crying session slash pity party in a bathroom stall by myself on Valentine’s Day. You gonna laugh at me now?”

“No, I would never do that because I know what it feels like to be rejected by someone you really care about.”

Santana immediately knew what Rachel was implying, assuming she must’ve seen what happened with Brittany in the hall. _That nosy little troll_ _can never mind her own goddamn business_ , she thought. She quickly jumped to her feet and abruptly pushed open the stall door, nearly whacking Rachel in the face with it. “ _What_ , what are you—”

“It’s _okay_ , Santana. I’m not going to tell anyone, although I’m sure that most of Glee club is very much aware of what has been going on with you two. Also, there’s no one else in here so don’t panic, I double checked under the stalls and I locked the door. I understand that this might be a…. _sensitive_ topic for you.”

“I _swear_ to God, Berry, I will go _all_ Lima Heights on you—”

“I know you would, and that’s why I would _never_ say anything. Also, because I’m not that type of person, as I actually _care_ about the feelings of others, unlike _some_ people,” Rachel said smugly, and Santana was two seconds away from strangling the smaller girl for interrupting her _twice_ and for being so…. _Rachel_.

“ _No_ you don’t, everyone with at least half a brain knows you only care about _yourself_. So _why_ are you even in here talking to me?” Santana snapped, waiting for Rachel to reveal some ulterior motive, because they definitely _weren’t_ friends, and the brunette was probably the _last_ person on earth the Latina would ever go to for a heart-to-heart. Not to mention the fact that Rachel was the ring leader of the _attack Santana_ day that occurred just three days prior, causing her to breakdown and cry in the middle of the hallway, with Brittany being the only person to come and comfort her. 

Rachel ignored her insult and gave her a sympathetic look. “Because you looked like you needed a friend, and I realize the two of us have yet to achieve that particular status, but it’s Valentine’s Day and we’re sort of in the same boat, so I thought we could talk. Maybe it would make the both of us a little less bitter on a holiday that is supposed to be about love.” 

“Do I _look_ like I want to hear about your problems with Finn the Baby Beluga, who is by the way, so _obviously_ in love with Quinn that he wouldn’t even kiss you for his stupid booth?” Santana retorted, hoping Rachel would get the idea to _leave her the hell alone_. 

“Okay, clearly you’re taking your anger out on me. And that’s fine, you’ve done it many times before. I’ll leave you alone now. But just for the record, Santana, you need to end this self-proclaimed pity party because you’re much better off than me when it comes to our love lives right now. You’re right, Finn _is_ probably still in love with Quinn. But Brittany’s in love with _you_. Trust me, I have an eye for this kind of stuff—thanks to my two gay dads. So stop feeling sorry for yourself, because at least you still have a _chance_ at being with the person you love,” Rachel ranted, and Santana was speechless for the longest time because she’d never seen or heard Rachel Berry like this before, and she couldn’t believe that _this_ girl of all people had spot-on gaydar, but she was actually being sort of…. _helpful_.

“Hey, Rachel....this little convo does _not_ leave this room or so help me I will _ends you_ , and does _not_ magically make us friends or anything, but….thank you.”

“You….you just called me _Rachel_. And said _thank you_ ,” the smaller girl said, her eyes widening dramatically. 

“I know, now get out of here before I start to regret it,” Santana replied, attempting to sound threatening, and for a second it looked like Rachel was about to challenge her, but instead she gave the Latina a small nod before swinging her bag onto her shoulder and unlocking the door. Santana then took a deep breath, fixed her mascara in the mirror, and left the bathroom to head off to class, Rachel’s words never leaving her head. 

Santana walked to her car after school, arms full of flowers and stuffed animals and candy given to her by various football and hockey players who were all desperate to score a Valentine’s date with one of McKinley's hottest. She turned them all down, but of course, kept all of the loot. 

When she finally found her car in the parking lot, she was surprised to find Brittany leaning against the driver’s side door. She wondered how long the blonde had been waiting there for her. Her eyes were so clear and blue in the sunlight but there was also a hint of pain in them that tugged at something inside Santana’s chest.

“Hey….I feel really bad about earlier. But you get it, right? You get why I’m spending today with Artie and not you?”

“I get it, Britt. I do. Like you said, he’s your boyfriend. I’m just your best friend,” Santana said, barely being able to get out the word _boyfriend_ without wanting to puke.

“San….you’re saying you invited me to Breadstix with you tonight as _friends_?” Brittany asked, a confused look plastered across her face.

“ _Duh_ , why else would I invite you? Honestly, I forgot you were even dating _Fartie_ and thought we’d hit Breadstix as two hot best friends who aren’t embarrassed to be single on Valentine’s Day. We’d make the Warblers do _Single Ladies_ or something, Kurt could relive his football days,” Santana lied, and she could almost sense that Brittany knew she just made all of that up and that wasn’t the real reason she’d invited her to Breadstix _at all_. 

“Uh, okay. I kind of thought….never mind. You should still come tonight, okay? Rachel and Mercedes are going, and they’re both single.”

“They’re single because they’re _losers_. _I’m_ single because—” she paused, wanting to say _because I can’t have you, and you’re the only one that I want_. But instead she said, “Because I have mega-high standards, and there’s not a single boy at this stupid school who even comes close to meeting them. Hence _all_ of the gifts, but not even _one_ boy on my arm.”

“I thought you were interested in Puck again. I saw you talking to him in the hall yesterday, it sounded like you wanted _him_ to take you to Breadstix,” Brittany asked, her voice much quieter than only seconds before, and her eyes refused to meet Santana’s. 

“Maybe I did, but that was before I knew he was actually _serious_ about seducing the endangered great white rhino. Whatever, he can have fun getting stomped on. And it looks like Sam and Quinn might be _doneso_ after the shit that went down today....and I think I might likes me some big ol’ froggy lips.”

Brittany winced again, like she did earlier in the hall against the lockers, but then quickly shook it off and forced herself to smile. The pain in her eyes was still there, maybe even more noticeable now. “That’s good, San. I just want you to be happy.” 

_Like you are with Artie?_ The Latina thought, the blonde’s words and the way she said them tugging at her heart, and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking the question out loud. She wasn’t even sure if _Brittany_ knew the answer to that question.

Santana drove away a few minutes later after reassuring Brittany that she’d _try_ to make an appearance at Breadstix, but only because she wanted the blonde to stop nagging her about it. 

It was around 8 o’clock and Santana walked through the door of the restaurant and spotted them immediately, watching the way their foreheads touched, the way he leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She quickly turned on her heels to leave, deciding she just couldn’t handle it all, but bumped right into Rachel and Mercedes.

“Hey, Santana. Us badass single ladies should stick together on V-day. Wanna sit with us?” Mercedes asked, ushering the Latina inside before she could say anything. Rachel gave her a knowing look, as if she could tell why Santana was already adamant to leave. 

“You know, as fun as that sounds, and it really does just sound like a _blast_ , I think I’m gonna get my own table, that way I don’t have to share the breadsticks with _anybody_.”

“Suit yourself,” Mercedes said with a hint of attitude before following Rachel over to the front where they slid into a booth opposite a smiling Mike and Tina. Basically the whole Glee club was there, minus a few.

She could feel multiple pairs of eyes on her as she sat down in an empty booth by herself. One pair of eyes in particular, eyes that she’d know and recognize anywhere, never left her even minutes after she’d settled into the booth, and Santana tried her absolute hardest not to turn her head to meet the blonde’s gaze.

So instead, she tried keeping herself busy by eating breadsticks. After scarfing down her forth, along with two glasses of lemonade, Puck yelled obnoxiously from behind her, “You gonna eat all of those by yourself in one sitting, Lopez? Maybe you _are_ my type.” She turned her head to scowl at him and watched as Zizes rolled her eyes and gave him a hard shove, nearly causing him to fall out of his chair. 

The Warblers finally began to sing after Blaine gave an utterly _stupid_ yet sickeningly sweet speech about how love can be unexpected, and how someone can take you by surprise and change your whole world and _blah, blah, blah_. She knew he was talking about Kurt, but it just made her think of Brittany and there was that all-too-familiar, gut-wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

She noticed Brittany’s eyes on her again about halfway through a sappy Paul McCartney song and they locked eyes just as Blaine began the bridge.

_Love doesn’t come in a minute, sometimes it doesn’t come at all_

_I only know when I’m in it, it isn’t silly, love isn’t silly, love isn’t silly at all_

Santana felt like throwing up again, because the lyrics combined with the way Brittany was staring at her was just _too much_ , but she forced herself to swallow it all down because she _did_ just eat six breadsticks. Artie’s arms were wrapped around Brittany almost too tightly, like he was claiming her, as he swayed them back and forth as well as he could in his wheelchair, and it made the Latina’s entire body boil with rage. 

She doesn’t even know why she came to this stupid thing, because she didn’t come for the breadsticks. And she _definitely_ didn’t come to watch Brittany laugh with Artie and sway with Artie and turn to look at him with _those_ eyes, the same eyes that used to look at _her_ like that. 

But then Brittany’s eyes are on her again as the song ends, after some of the Warblers waltzed over mid-song and personally serenaded the Latina and she assumed it was because she looked absolutely _pathetic_ sitting all alone and they felt sorry for her.

She immediately looked away from Brittany and caught Sam’s eye, who was also by himself and noticeably Quinn-less, since she was at home with mono (which was technically Santana’s fault, due to her shenanigans earlier involving a stolen candy striper outfit). She waved at him with a flirty wink, and she could feel Brittany’s gaze burning into her. 

Santana sat there for a few more songs and then decided to leave early after some of the couples got up to dance and she suddenly just felt so…. _alone_. She was so upset that she didn’t even bother taking the rest of the breadsticks home like she usually did, and she snuck out the door before Brittany, or anyone else, could even notice. 

She sat in her car alone in the dark and began sobbing uncontrollably, the heaviness of the entire day beginning to weigh on her as she realized that everyone seemed to have _someone_ and she truly had _no one,_ as she’d told Britany earlier _._ She’s sure that nobody even noticed that she’d left.

Everything was ruined, and she was alone on Valentine’s Day, and Brittany still wasn’t hers. But despite the fact that she just spent twenty minutes crying in the parking lot, Santana was _tough_ , and _strong_ , and she wasn’t going to let this _one awful day_ stop her from going after what she wants. She was going to have Brittany, and maybe that meant she had to wait a little while longer, but she knew deep down that Brittany was worth it, and Rachel Berry’s words were still echoing in her head from the morning: _at least you still have a chance at being with the person you love_.

As she was about to pull out of the parking lot, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

B: _Saw u leave. U okay???_

S: _I’m good Britt-Britt, just felt sick after eating too many breadsticks._

B: _Aw :( hope u feel better!!_

B: _And hey, S....don’t feel bad about being single, okay? Ur the most amazing person I know. Anyone would be SO lucky to be with u._

S: _Thanks, B. I’ll see you at school tmrw, okay?_

B: Kk. Night, San. Xoxo

Santana was now smiling to herself as her tears finally dried, her face still puffy from all of the crying. Brittany noticed that she left, and wanted to make sure she was okay, and it was _so_ something Brittany would do that Santana’s surprised she didn’t expect it. 

She looks at the words on the screen: _anyone would be SO lucky to be with u_. It pains her, because a few months ago, Brittany was in her grasp. A few months ago, Brittany was kissing her and telling her that they should sing together for Mr. Schue’s duet challenge and was ready to profess her love by singing Come to My Window in front of the whole Glee club. 

Brittany had somehow always been ready. She’d never really cared what other people thought of her, or if they knew that she liked boys _and_ girls. But Santana _wasn’t_ ready, and she’s not even sure she is _now_ (because telling her whole world that she’s a _full-fledged_ _lesbian_ before she even truly accepts it herself seems like it could end in _disaster_ ), but the idea of _not_ having Brittany and in ten years receiving a Christmas card with four-eyed nerd babies that have Brittany’s smile and Brittany’s eyes was something she _refused_ to ever let happen. 

A few months ago she had Brittany, but she ruined everything, and pushed Brittany away, and left her feeling like everything between them was only happening because they were lonely, or wanted practice, or because there wasn’t some boy there that they could fool around with, or as Santana had put so eloquently, _needed_ _something warm beneath her_. 

But Brittany was never just that, she’s always been so much _more_ , and Santana had all of these _feelings_ she’d never had for anyone else before Brittany— _real_ , _true_ , _deep_ feelings that terrified her so much she’d rather just pretend they didn’t exist. 

Santana knew she had to fix the damage she caused from that one night in Brittany’s bedroom, the damage that made perfect, happy-go-lucky, sweet Brittany turn into someone she didn’t even recognize, someone who was sad and guarded and petty enough to immediately start dating Artie in an attempt to drive Santana mad with jealousy. 

She was supposed to fix it _tonight_ , she was supposed to be taking Brittany home right about now, minutes away from telling her _everything_ she’d kept bottled up inside for years. But that obviously wasn’t happening, so she decided to drive home and just let things play out. Brittany might not be hers, _yet_ , but all she knew was that Brittany still _cared_ and spent half her date with Artie staring at _Santana_ , so the Latina thinks she can call tonight a win, despite all the crying and breadstick snarfing and angsty glances. 

And, to quote Rachel Berry, Santana _still has a chance at being with the person she loves_. She's determined as ever to make Brittany hers, even if she has to wait it out just a little while longer. 


End file.
